LEMONS.

They say when life gives you lemons you should make lemonade. I hear that as simply using the things with which you were provided as a birth right and remaining content. Instead, with said lemons, why don't we set up a lemon stand, sell them, purchase something to better market those lemons, and eventually no longer rely on those lemons? Those lemons are the basis but they're not the boundaries and they certainly shouldn't be the bounds. 

I never had the sugar nor water to add to those original lemons. At least that's what I had trained myself to believe. It's of recent when I found the timber and nails to build that stand, the stand which would soon become my podium. On which I would stand. With the confidence and pure resolute of someone who can only have done so if not for those lemons. 

With an engrained destiny of unhappiness, I grew. Almost two decades on this earth spent unable to see a future. Beat into me from my father, a man with whom the only thing we share is an inclination for the bottle. Emotionless, I matured. A sentiment I learned from my mother, to whom such is the only reasonable sentiment. Treating the pads of my finger to the warmth that a flick of a lighter provides, I sunk. Locked in a dark room, no food, no human contact, I lay. Years. Years spent in deep sorrow and disappointment. Years which I will never get back. Scars from a flame that'll remain a part of me forever.  

I woke at 6 in the morning for a week straight. It showed me the earth in a way which I had never seen it. At that time, when the light is slowly rising, it is vulnerable and alone. A common commodity. That week became a month, and afterwards the earth and I became one. Soon, too, I would rise with my brightness high and clouds sparse. Tenderness allowed and conviction strong. 

The deep sorrow never leaves. It does, though, evolve. Evolve into a capacity in which the human mind and body is designed to absorb. I moved on. I never forget, nor forgive, the touch of a fist, the harsh words, the prioritisation of the bottle. I do, however, understand these afflictions of which I was victimed. For, such afflictions turned into the stairs, the stairs I would climb to stand on my podium. My podium in which I stand with my eyes, heart and mind open.

I have a bond with the lemons, no matter how sweet or sour.